Memoir
by Xleste
Summary: Rick is the kind of man who would write his own autobiography. What would he put in there?


_Author's Note:_ This was inspired by IMW, whose review of "Moments" (where the first part of this story comes from) made me think, "Huh...why don't I try to write a couple of excerpts from the memoir itself?" It was interesting to realize that I was sort of scared to. There seem like there are considerations to be responsible to. For instance, there are ways in which Rick's memory itself isn't totally accurate, because it's Rick and he inflates things. Feedback would be seriously welcome if there are tweaks that you think would be even more Rick-like, or if you have ideas for stuff you'd like to see show up. I don't suppose anyone has any suggestions for what Rick would title his memoir? I feel like it should be something simultaneously witty and slightly self-aggrandizing. An idea was "Storm and Heat: the Life of Richard Castle", but am not attached to it.

I'm listing it as "complete" for now, as I still need to go back and work on "Simmer", but I may add to this as the mood strikes me. I think some of the scenes from the show, told from Rick's vantage point, and blurred with years, perspective, and exaggeration, could be fun and funny.

* * *

Rick was in his 50s when he finally got his memoirs published, though the idea had been knocking around in his head for at least a decade. The idea started when Alexis' kids wanted stories of their non-fictional life from him and "gram", meaning Kate. (Meredith refused to be referred to as "grandmother" - she allowed her grandchildren to call her "Mer".) Kate rolled her eyes whenever he teased her about what he'd put in the autobiography. He wouldn't let her read it while he was writing it, and she was pretty sure it was as much fiction as non-fiction. She wasn't too pleased about the idea as she still guarded as much of their privacy as she could, and he spent more years charming her into letting him write it than he did trying to get her to take him seriously after meeting her. (And there were times she still didn't take him seriously.)

Pre-release, Alexis dealt gracefully with the constant and irritating phone calls from Meredith regarding just how much she was featured in it. (It was hard to tell whether Meredith was afraid of too much or too little. At one point, a certain "tops" list was mentioned as potential inclusion, but Alexis firmly yet lovingly reminded her mother of the fact that her stepmother was still perfectly capable of dislocating a perfect nose in a single blow.)

In the end, the book delighted Richard Castle fans (partly for the fun party details, the who's who of his life, the famous breasts he'd signed, the poker games played) and turned into another New York times bestseller, and his first in non-fiction. It also delved into the crime cases he'd been key to solving (another Kate eyeroll when she read those) and his years moonlighting with the NYPD. Fans were dying (thankfully not literally) to see how much of the Nikki Heat books were fact, not fiction.

Some of his life was as great as his fiction. His readers were entranced by the story of the serial killer who thought Nikki Heat was real and left a trail of bodies for Detective Beckett, relived with him the fear he'd felt when he thought Kate's apartment was blown up, cheered his heroic breaking down of her apartment door to find her still alive.* (Critics wondered if he exaggerated the part where he shot the gun out of the serial killer's hand, just in time to save his future wife's life – until it was corroborated by an enterprising reported who tracked down the closed FBI files related to Scott Dunn, deceased after serving life in a federal penitentiary.)

Out of respect for his wife, and the fact that he didn't want to sleep on the couch, he kept many of the intimate details of their life out of the printed word and carefully controlled what was revealed about their family. But what the critics actually lauded was that beneath the sensationalism and glamor, the mayhem and murder, the cheese and advice, his memoir was undeniably a love story.

*_Author's Note:_ Refers to events in Season 2, in the episodes "Tick, Tick", and "Boom".

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**Brief excerpts from the autobiographical memoir of the famous novelist Richard Castle.**

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Maybe because I don't know who my own father is, it was important to me to be a great dad. When Meredith was pregnant, my first reaction was panic – sheer, utter panic. What did I know about being a dad? I'm lucky – Alexis taught me how, and inspired me to be one. We didn't have a nanny for her growing up because I wanted to raise her. I was as surprised as anyone to realize that I loved being the one to feed her and burp her and get her diapers changed, and rock her to sleep. One of the best things about being a writer is that it gave me the flexibility to be there for her when she came home from school. We were play buddies. Plus, being at the park with her was a great way to pick up on single moms.

I have to give Alexis a lot of credit for raising both of us. When I was a teenager, I certainly didn't ask Mother to not let me play when I had to study for finals, or bring reading materials to parties. I'm still not sure where she got that from. While there were times I sort of wished she'd go out and do the kinds of wildly inappropriate things I did when I was a teenager, I'm glad she was just herself and didn't feel the need to be like Mom, Dad, or her Grams.

My second daughter and my son have more than made up for it. All I have to say is that it's a good thing their mother is a cop and that they've learned and relearned over the years that it's not a good idea to cross her.

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Killing Derek Storm was the right thing to do, though to this day, I am still getting hate mail from my fans about that. In some ways, it was an easy decision, and also a scary one. It was easy in the sense that I'd gotten bored – something that is never a good thing for me. The character became too predictable, too canned, and he stopped being exciting for me to write. The hard part was that he was the basis of a string of bestselling novels, for good reason, and people loved him. I had no idea what I was going to do next, and the alimony for two ex-wives had to come from somewhere. Sometimes something has to die for something else to live. Little did I know that killing Derek Storm would be the opening for one of the best things to ever happen to me, on par with the births of my daughters and son, and the first time my name was on the New York Times bestsellers list.

I still remember the moment I met Detective Kate Beckett. It was warm September evening, rooftop party. Drinks were flowing freely, and the paparazzi was in full force at the release party of the last of the Derek Storm novel. I was bored, anticipating another evening of drinking, signing breasts, playing to the press – and beneath the enthusiasm I was trying to muster, I was just plain done with it. I'd been there, done that. I was itching for something new. And then, a beautiful woman walked up to me – haunting good looks with these beautiful eyes, high cheekbones, kissable mouth, awful haircut. She was in this no-nonsense jacket and shirt, that kind of unpleasantly reminded me of Sister Mary Helene from 10th grade. She exuded authority, which was actually rather hot, and I was all ready for her to unbutton that all-business shirt so I could sign her chest.

Instead, she flashed an NYPD badge at me to haul me in for questioning. Some copycat killer was out there recreating scenes from my books, and she wanted to have a word with me. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was having fantasies about what she could do to me in the interrogation room on the drive to the precinct, but those were sadly left unfulfilled that night. It wasn't my first time in the city jail, and she lost no time in reminding me of that. With some women, the fact that I once stole a police horse naked (I was naked, not the horse – the horse had a saddle and horseshoes) might have scored some points. It got me nowhere with her, and she made me take her sort of seriously.

I wasn't about to let her know that though. Despite the fact that the lovely Detective Beckett pretended to be irritated with me, I like to think she was at least intrigued even if she refused to show it. I asked her out, and she shot me down - and trust me, that hadn't happened all that often. It was even worse because I knew - I just knew - that we could be amazing together. That left me with no choice but to ask my friend Bob, who happened to be the Mayor of New York, to let me shadow her. I wasn't about to let her walk out my life. I thought I'd found the inspiration for my next book. I didn't realize I'd found someone to inspire me for the rest of my life.

* * *

I'd been working with the NYPD for nearly a year when I did something once that really upset Kate, by doing something she specifically asked me not to do. Actually, I've done a lot of things that have upset Kate and there have been a lot of times I've done something she specifically asked me not to do, but it was the first time she was willing to exile me from her life, tell me that we were through and that I couldn't shadow her anymore. It might be the first time I was willing to beg a woman to let me be around her, and we weren't even dating, and I definitely wasn't getting any. It was a humbling experience for yours truly. Hard to believe, isn't it?

I did everything I could to get back into her good graces after she said our partnership was over. My first attempt included a photo shoot at the 12th for Cosmopolitan magazine for the first Nikki Heat novel. I think my buddies Ryan and Esposito appreciated the models I got to run around the bull pen in kinky pseudo-cop uniforms, but it definitely didn't score me points with Detective Beckett.

I raised the ante by going undercover to find a tattooed Russian mafia hit man in an illegal high-stakes poker game in the back alleys of Chinatown. I went in wired with a hidden button camera, mic, everything. My life came close to ending that night if Detective Beckett hadn't come in right as the hit man was dragging me through the back kitchen with a gun to my head, threatening to blow my brains out. There are a lot of reasons I'll never forget that night, not least of which is that she transformed from savvy cop to Russian hooker to talk her way past the bouncers - and it was unbelievably hot. Even more amazing was that she disarmed the Russian in one smooth move, even though he was twice her size and she was wearing high heels, twisted his arm behind his back and slammed his cheek into the metal kitchen counter - holding him down with his own gun to his head until I could get her backup._ [Edited out for Rick's ongoing health was a passage about his discovery that Kate wore red lace thongs.]_ Can you see why I was fascinated with her, why she was the inspiration for Nikki Heat long before I knew I was in love with her?

I have two pieces of wisdom to dispense to you gentlemen out there that I learned through this experience.

One, a Medical Examiner who has beef with you is scary. Our friend Lanie, who fans will recognize as Lauren from the Nikki Heat series, had Kate's back all the way and scared the hell out of me. She also made me realize what I'd done in breaking Kate's trust, even with the best of intentions. Don't underestimate the power of the girlfriend, especially one that knows how to eviscerate a body with a scalpel.

Two, when you're wrong, apologize. I had good intentions and a lot of good excuses - I'd had a couple months to think those through, but Kate wasn't buying any of them. My daughter Alexis asked me why boys are lame and never just say they're sorry, why they have to come up with excuses or try to blow things off as not a big deal. I had to look into my teenage daughter's sad eyes, and I wanted to apologize for the entire male species for occasionally having our heads up our asses.

I went back to the precinct to say "I'm sorry" to Kate. I think it mattered that I really didn't expect her to let me follow her again. I did it because I realized it was the right thing to do. On my way out the door, I heard the most amazing words. "See you in the morning." (Usually, it's "Your place or mine" that sound like music to my ears, but Detective Beckett has always been different.) Without that pivotal moment, there would have only been one Nikki Heat book and I probably would have been married and divorced three or four more times instead of finding my wife. The rest, as they say, is history.

* * *

Imagine this - it's a gorgeous spring day in New York, swanky hotel, flowers everywhere, breathtakingly beautiful bride, trust-fund groom, dead bridesmaid. I was getting familiar with homicide cases after shadowing Kate for nearly a year, but nothing prepared me for walking into the suite of a crime and seeing Kyra Blaine in her wedding gown. My fans will recognize Kyra Blaine from a book dedication, the first woman I ever fell in love with. I won't, out of respect for her, go into the details of her murdered bridesmaid, but suffice to say, it was quite a shock to see her in her wedding gown grieving.

Of all the weddings, of all the homicides, I had to walk into hers.

I've learned that even when you think some doors are forever closed, you still get unexpected glimpses through them. I used to refer to Kyra as "the one that got away" because that's how I thought of her for a long time. Now that I'm a little older and wiser, it's not about regretting something that got away, but being grateful for the times we had - and the lessons learned. Some lessons just took me a really long time to learn. If I hadn't loved Kyra and let her go, because I was too young to know better, I don't think I would have known how to recognize when the time came to finally fight for Kate and _not_ let her get away.

I was instrumental in getting the case solved, so in the end, I was part of Kyra's happily-ever-after ending after all. (That's something that I'm still sure twisted her mother's nose out of joint. That woman totally had it in for me.) It just wasn't in the way I thought it would be, when Kyra and I were both young and in love. Sometimes things don't turn out the way you thought they would, but life's taught me an appreciation for the unexpected.

Kate and I attended Kyra's wedding, and I still laugh thinking about the look on Kate's face when she caught Kyra's bouquet. That was long before Kate would admit she had feelings for me.

Kyra's married to a great guy who loves her, she has a family. Our paths still cross every once in awhile, and she'll always be a rose to me.

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Unlike a lot of New Yorkers who've tangled with the law, some of my best memories are with my friends at the 12th. I remember one occasion when we thought another cop, this annoying guy with an overly toothy smile, was possibly dirty. Ryan, Esposito, and I teamed up to break into his locker, while Beckett covered for us with a distraction. We were suave, sneaky, running subtle as we looked for evidence. Turned out the guy was clean, but it was moments like that that I still miss, years later. As a kid, I didn't have the experience of being on a sports team - a team of guys. I have my buddies, like the guys I play poker and my writing friends, but being on the same team, having each others' backs, depending on each other literally for our lives - that's something irreplaceable.

Detectives Esposito and Ryan were the basis for the "Roach" team of the Nikki Heat books. The day Esposito introduced me as one of his partners is one I'm pretty darned proud of.


End file.
